The Fake Mind (Time Alchemist) Read online

  I had thought that things were getting better when we met. Yes, it was Leon’s fault that I became an alchemist—I foolishly got myself caught up in their sibling battle and he stabbed me right through the heart. And it was thanks to Dove that she sacrificed her alchemy to save a stranger’s life.

  And I hadn’t looked back.

  Things were going well. Dove took me under her wing to try and

  guide me to become a proper alchemist and help me find the Elixir to save my heart. Leon tried his own way, too, desperately trying to earn my trust, all the while saving my life numerous times. After our brush of death at Bonaventure Cemetery last Christmas, things had been going well.

  Except it didn’t. Leon had grown cold and distant towards us, clearly hiding something. And Dove couldn’t trust his full word of what was the truth and what was a lie. When the real truth is, Leon was being possessed, slowly, by Ivan Novak’s soul. But neither of us could see it.

  Leon, in his own way, was trying to hide his pain and solve the problem on his own, so he wouldn’t hurt us.

  But it was too late. Leon was too late, and I was too blind to see what the problem was. Only a month ago, when Dove and I traveled to Andersonville to rescue Chrys and find the rest of Guinevere’s text…

  Leon appeared, fully possessed.

  But not before he had stabbed Dove. Almost killing her.

  Now, I truly felt, deep down, that the only person I could turn to was Guinevere: she had to know how to get an evil soul out of an innocent person’s body—without killing him! I promised Leon that I wouldn’t give up until I could rescue him. But if all else failed…then I would kill him and Ivan.

  But not until I was one hundred percent sure.

  And I know Leon was out there—fighting. He had to be. He may be a coward in some ways, but he was no damn quitter.

  And the last person who has ever seen Guinevere…

  “I’ve already told you what I know,” Dove said, standing in front of the mirror in the closet sized bathroom that the girl’s shared. She was brushing her blonde hair absentmindedly. I would know: she was stroking the very same spot for the past three minutes. There were dark half moons under her eyes, making her pale skin look clammy, like she was the walking dead.

  Maybe I wasn’t the only one having nightmares.

  I was sitting on the edge of the bathtub, brushing my teeth with a cup of water. Hey, sharing the bathroom with three other girls all at the same time? You had to do crazy stuff, you know? And I didn’t really want to push Dove out of the way just yet. I needed her to talk to me. To open up.

  “But any detail—anything Guinevere may have hinted at before the…incident…or what she was doing would help?” I had explained to Dove already what my plan was, but she was unusually grumpy this morning. Actually, she looked pissed.

  “Do you think that if I had an inkling of where she was, I would have already gone to find her?” Dove snapped. “Instead of being holed up here for some ungodly reason, wasting my days doing nothing?”

  My toothbrush fell from my hand and landed on my jeans, leaving a foamy splatter on the fabric. Toothpaste foam fell out of my slacked jaw, and I probably looked like a rabid dog to anyone walking by, but I was stunned. Purely stunned.

  Dove just shook her head, refusing to look at me. But from the reflection I could see how flushed her skin was. She put the brush back on the sink gently, mumbling something about going back to sleep, and walked out.

  I just sat there with my mouth open like a gaping fish. I must have looked horrified because when Oliver poked his head in to tell me breakfast was ready; his eyes went round like saucer plates. He was silent for a few seconds before saying, “Do you need a few more minutes?”

  I could only nod numbly. He shook his head in reply, reached inside and shut the door with a soft click. The taste of toothpaste was thick in my mouth the rest of the day, yet I couldn’t be bothered to rinse it out. Today, it tasted like failure.

  And boy, what a failure I was.

  CHAPTER 5

  My heart wasn’t into training today.

  Even though I had fun with Christopher’s session yesterday, he didn’t even bother to hide his disappointment when I was barely putting half my effort into sparring or alchemy. I even got irritated at the other workers at lunch, even going so far as to snap at Professor Metz, who was being a fluster in front of the cook, and told her to just get her damn feelings off her chest and move the line up so I could eat.

  I sat in the bathroom during lunch.

  The car ride back was stifling. Every street we passed made me more nervous—I’d have to face Dove soon, but I just wasn’t ready. Chrys and Oliver tried to make me feel better by telling bad jokes and telling that my immature outburst at Professor Metz had forced her to confess her feelings, he returned them, happily ever after, and that she wasn’t mad at all. I listened half heartedly, but my heart felt like a lump of coal.

  Black and charred, leaving a dusty imprint where my real hard should be.

  I was spared a confrontation when we arrived home, to find that

  Dove had spent most the day locked up in her room. Frankie Ann didn’t bother her too much, and I was grateful that she was going so far to help Dove. Even the Black Crown, because they didn’t owe Dove anything—

  Julio and Gwen, the local Healers, were doing what they thought was right. Of course, it might be a little bit of the fact that Dove is Guinevere’s apprentice. Maybe there really was a motive beneath the help?

  Regardless…oh, whatever. Dove was fine. She had a place to stay

  —

  And then I realized nothing was really keeping her here. Her body was healing from her coma, she was okay now.

  She had no reason to stick around.

  What if she was planning to leave?

  I didn’t go to bother Dove. Instead, I went straight to the backyard and plopped down under the twig of a tree, burrowing my face in my hands; a thousand and one thoughts rushing through my brain like an overflowing river.

  “You okay, Clockie?”

  A familiar, arrogant-laced voice said from in front of me. I didn’t bother to look up, or even acknowledge his presence. But apparently my silence was taken as a “No, I’m not okay! Please sit down and listen to me weep over things I can’t control!” and I felt him shift next to me, our

  knees brushing.

  He bumped our knees again and I felt a surge of warmth from the contact. But it wasn’t for the reason you think it is—I mean, any Fire Alchemist is going to be a natural walking heater. Roderick Scott was no exception.

  “You know,” Rick said, continuing to bump my knee with his, “If you keep ignoring me, I’ll just kiss you.”

  I finally looked up, but couldn’t even muster a glare let alone a witty comeback. But he smirked, clearly winning this round. I looked at the boy who had once been my enemy: With dark red hair, the tips black, though they were fading, and amazingly warm brown eyes, like liquid chocolate. His face was sharp and tougher, and he natural gave off an

  “I’m a delinquent!” kind of vibe just from his bad attitude and posture.

  There was a thin white line on his lip and…

  Wait. Why am I looking at his lips?! I knew there was a scar there!

  Rick leaned forward, and I caught a hint of tobacco. Clearly he found a way to smoke even under Frankie Ann’s watchful eyes and a strict “No smoking!” policy. “What’s gotcha all in the dumps? Someone forget to wind you back up, Clockie?”

  “Clockie” was Rick’s stupid nickname for me, and in all honesty, it was so bad. But somehow, his snarky ton made me grin. Hard to believe

  we had been mortal enemies only two weeks ago. Rick was one of White’s former workers. He and his twin brother, Ash, were taken in by White when they were in foster care, and have worked for him sense.

  But after their failure of capturing me and Chrys like White wanted, they hatched a plan to lure me away from the Black Crown.

  It was, at
first, all a ploy. Rick was supposed to gain my trust by offering Guinevere’s stolen book as a white flag. But what he didn’t count on was me sending it to a close school friend and having her ship it here for protection. Of course, the rest of White’s plan worked out fine: Rick led me to White’s home up in near the Pennsylvania and New York border and I was basically outnumbered and held hostage there, along with a kidnapped Oliver.

  But not all of it was a plan. Rick had noticed over the past few years that White had become more malicious, yelling at them and sometimes beating them for failing missions. Rick had planned to get out, but he had to convince his younger brother to do the same.

  Unfortunately, it didn’t work out so well.

  Still…Rick sacrificed his bonds with not only Ash, but the man who took them in and raised them like sons. He ran away from White’s grip, helping us escape the burning home, and was arrested by the Black Crown shortly after. It’s thanks to Oliver mainly that they haven’t thrown Rick in the dungeon (I exaggerate here).

  In order to help Rick, I had bargained Guinevere’s book for his freedom. I thought it was a good idea at the time. For one thing, nobody but Guinevere and Dove can read the book—it was written in a coded language that Guinevere had made up—and it would be safe in case someone else wanted the book. Christopher didn’t like the bargain at first, but finally settled on placed Rick on “house arrest” at Frankie Ann’s home as her assistant. He was stripped of his Runes—black gloves

  —and had strange bands on his wrist preventing him from accidentally unleashing his Fire alchemy on anyone.

  Rick was grumpy and hot headed…but he meant well. In much surprise, he was getting along well with everyone, and Frankie Ann doted on him like the adorable aunt-like figure she was, constantly trying to get him to eat twice as much food as everyone else to “get some meat on those bones” and even mending some of his ripped clothes. I could tell that, even if he was trapped here by the Black Crown…he didn’t seem to mind it too much.

  “Cat got your tongue, doll face?” he grinned, brushing a lock of hair out of my face. That little motion caused my face to catch on fire (not literally, thank god!), and I shook away, heart trembling beneath my chest.

  Why was this happening? Why did every little thing Rick said and do make me so flustered?

  Why does this feel as though I’m…betraying Leon? I mean, true, we aren’t—haven’t—did we?—go out, like boyfriend and girlfriend. But I know there was a connection…I had fallen for Leon slowly, like when you fall asleep, only to come crashing awake from a blood soaked nightmare.

  I mean, our first and last kiss was basically a goodbye kiss!

  And I didn’t feel “in love” with Rick like I did with Leon…I admired Rick. And yes, I thought he was hot. I had glimpsed underneath his rock hard mask and found a softie beneath the flames; a person who prided himself on putting his brother before anything else. Just like Leon…

  “Sorry,” Rick said, clearly sensing my mood. He got up, brushing dirt off his jeans, and extended a hand. “I came out here really to tell you that Frankie needs your help in the kitchen.”

  I shook my head, still grasping his hand firmly as he pulled me up. He held on a little too long…the heat lingering on the tips of my fingers. But I thanked him anyway. “I needed cheering up. Really.”

  Rick grinned, but I saw a flash of something in his eyes—regret…

  hesitance? I wasn’t sure. But I know he knew…that I wasn’t ready for it.

  He was a flirt by nature, so I brushed it off. I already told him about Leon. He understood.

  And I had to put more effort in really making him understand. I

  refuse to be one of those girls clinging to any cute guy looking my way. I refuse to lead Rick on, even if my heart was conflicting in the matter.

  Even if I felt myself falling for Rick, slowly…just like a tiny, flickering flame refused to be snuffed out.

  CHAPTER 6

  Tonight, I wasn’t plagued by nightmares. Instead, all I could picture was Dove’s haunting face, her angry expression and how her words cut into me like a knife. All of the things we’ve done together…training, going to school…it seemed like none of it matter now.

  It already felt like I had lost Leon. Was I going to lose Dove a second time?

  I pushed myself up with a sigh. When was the last time I even had a good night’s sleep? Oh yeah, that’s right. When my entire world turned upside down and a couple of people’s hearts were knocking on death’s door.

  Wondering if Frankie Ann kept some sort of sleeping pill in the bathroom, I fumbled from the sheets, careful not to shake the sofa bed too much for Chrys, and almost ran into the doorframe. I stopped just an inch away, cursing under my breath when my eyes instinctively went over to Dove’s bed.

  And found it empty.

  Pure panic gripped my insides, squeezing my lungs so tightly that

  I couldn’t breathe. The space around me seemed to stretch and expand, threatening to snap, and all I could do was stand there, staring dumbly at an empty bed, denying every little thought that filtered through my head.

  She’s gone.

  She left.

  Without saying goodbye.

  I scrambled out, almost tripping over Butterball who always seemed to be stretched out in front of our door. He let out a pitiful mew when I interrupted his precious sleep and easily slipped through the door before I could stop him, but I pressed on, blindly groping the walls until I found the kitchen. I didn’t want to chance anyone waking up so I kept the lights off, searching the house as best as I could. The front parlor and the living room were both empty. I snuck a quick peek in Frankie Ann’s study-turned-bedroom and saw nothing. I knew for a fact Dove wouldn’t be in the boy’s shared room so I left them alone. But when I passed the living room, I saw a flash of something pale through the blinds. Looking closer, I spotted Dove’s familiar light blonde hair.

  She was in the backyard.

  Heart stuffed in throat, I had to side track back through the kitchen and go into the laundry to the right, where the door that led to the back of the house was. It creaked open with protest as I flung myself

  through, almost tripping down the stone steps…and stopped.

  A million words were stuck in my mouth. I was fully prepared to scream—I was so sure she was running away—

  But no. She stood in the middle of the backyard, only illuminated by the half moon in the sky. She wore nothing but a tank top and a pair of black sweats, and I could see just how breathtaking her Runes were.

  They almost seemed to glow, like a goddess.

  Dove stood still, breathing deeply. She was concentrating so hard she didn’t seem to notice me. When she opened her eyes, they flashed with pure determination as she lifted her hands and squeezed her palms together so tightly even from my hiding spot behind the corner, I could see them turn bone white.

  Drops of blood cascaded through her clenched fingers and flowed down her wrists. Dove took another breath, and her Runes began to flash brightly; they moved around, like liquid fire on her arms, and the blood in her hands started to mold into shape. It was small at first—it took the shape of a small ball, then melted into a pool of blood, only to be reformed into a star.

  I could only stare in pure awe, even as the glowing faded down and the blood went back to normal. A sheen of sweat was clearly visible on her skin and she bent over, hands on knees, to suck in air.

  “Wow…” the words escaped me before I could bite them back and

  Dove jumped three feet, visibly startled and whipped around, hand clenched over her heart. The sudden spurt of movement caused me to jump and I let out an unfeminine squawk as my foot caught a loose brick and I fell flat on my face, sprawled out on the grass like a discarded child’s toy.

  My entire body was hot, but I didn’t bother to move. Maybe if I stayed quiet and still, Dove wouldn’t see me?

  But of course, she had. I had caught her red handed (no pun intended) practicing
her alchemy.

  The alchemy she had lost saving my life.

  It was back.

  “Are you okay?” Dove asked. I hadn’t realized she had moved close, already kneeling down to my level.

  Heart pounding, I jumped up, spitting away grass, and blurted,

  “I’m so sorry!”

  “What?”

  I didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop. “I’m sorry for interrupting. I’m sorry I’ve just been pathetic these past weeks.” Tears started raining down my cheeks, and I had to gulp in hot summer air to keep going. “I’m sorry I’ve let you and L-Leon down but…please, please don’t leave! I can’t do this without you here.”

  “Emery…”

  “I know I don’t deserve to be asking you this,” I continued. “And I know you have every right to hate me! Leon’s out there…somewhere, and I just don’t know what to do! Where to start! But if you left now, while we’re like this, I couldn’t bear it. And—”

  “Emery!” Dove snapped, forcing me to look up. Her eyes too, were shining, swimming with fresh tears. “How could I ever be mad at you?

  I’m the one who should apologize.”

  I blinked, feeling tears mix with newly formed snot dribbled down my chin. “T-Then you aren’t leaving?”

  “What? No! Of course not. I’d never leave you. Why would you think that?”

  I sniffed. “Because of…this morning. And now. I saw you, Dove.

  You’ve…got your alchemy back.”

  She bit her lip, but a faint hint of a smile was still on her face as she rubbed her hands gently over her arms. The cuts on her palms—

  caused by her nails—had already healed. “I…yes. I can hardly believe it either. But it’s true—my alchemy is back.”

  “Because it was never gone in the first place,” I said, remembering when Julio Hawkins had claimed that Dove had never lost her alchemy, but had simply locked it inside of her instead. “The Elixir…it must have done something to restore your alchemy again, when it saved your life…”

  She nodded. “I think so, too. But I’m not at my fullest yet. This